“I don’t know. A good time between the sheets. Not a great time,” she added, “but a good one.”

“And that’s it?”

“Sure.”

“And that’s enough?”

“For me? For right now? Yes and yes.”

He turned and dangled his legs over the side of the bed.

“This is never going to be a marriage. It will probably never be a serious relationship. And because of that, I can’t help feeling but that we’re wasting our time together.”

She rolled her eyes and came to put her arms around his neck.

“Darling, you’re cute when you worry but you’ll be in an early grave if you keep this up. Where are you and I going to be in a hundred years?”

“Unless one of us stumbles upon the fountain of youth? Dead, I’d guess.”

“In a hundred years we’ll all be dead, so I don’t care about. In fifty years we’ll be old and shriveled up. I’m not living to prepare myself for that, I’m just living. And so I enjoy you and I like the things I enjoy.”

“Do you think I love you?”

She took her arms off of him and leaned back. He didn’t turn to look her in the face, knowing that an answer wouldn’t be given if he did.

“No,” she said finally, “No, I know you don’t. But I’m pretty good at not remembering it when I don’t want to.”